The wolf will have her. But first he must feed.
BY MORNING I AM TIRED, hungry and once again out of water. Not to mention lost. Part of me wants nothing more than to find a little nook where I can lie down and wait for the wolf to find me. But aside from the worry that something else might come on me unaware, a sense of unease has me putting one foot in front of the other.
It’s odd, but with nothing else to focus on but him, I get a sense of the wolf as a being separate from Aiden. I flash back on the spirit scape, the way he’d appeared as two different souls in one flesh. I’ve seen him in control of Aiden’s human form before, but I never thought of him as Other.
After a night of reaching out for his mind, I know it’s not Aiden on the other end of the connection. There are no words coming back at me, it’s more like I’m following him by instinct. I have no idea why the wolf attacked me and even more troubling, if he’ll do so again or if Aiden can wrestle control back in time.
A sharp gust of northern wind carries the scent of burning. I inhale deeply. Not wood smoke, or not only wood smoke. Whatever is on fire is much larger than a small blaze to keep a few travelers warm.
There’s another aroma, lighter and almost hidden underneath, a fecund scent of grain newly harvested. The wolf is a carnivore but where there’s a harvest there are beings doing the harvesting.
And the wolf is hungry. His hunger is a living thing, jabbing him from the inside. The need to hunt, to kill. Not out of any sort of anger, and not even only for survival. Because it is what he is made to do. In a way, I understand this creature better than I do his man-shaped counterpart. And I envy his freedom to be true to his nature.
I turn north, toward the burning and whatever else is beyond it and pick up my pace to a run.
I see the plume of smoke as I emerge from the trees. Sure enough, the land is sectioned into fields, not flat but sown into a gentle slope to help with drainage. The earth has been tilled and prepared for the coming winter. A large creek meanders down the center, a perfect position to help irrigate the crops, and spills into a large lake. On the far side of the lake, sits the village. There are several squat fieldstone buildings forming a semicircle, the tallest building no more than two stories. It is that one, the tall building at the center of the community that is the source of the smoke. Shouts and screams carry across the water and fields, sounds of panic and terror.
Is it Aiden? Has the wolf somehow tapped into his godlike power, preferring his meat to be cooked? No, if he had all the buildings would be burning. Judging from the rustic setting, it’s more likely that someone panicked at the sight of the big black wolf and knocked over a candle or dropped something too near the hearth.
I scan for a way down. There’s a path off to my right, no more than a goat trail. It bypasses both the fields and the water though and I sprint for it, heart pounding, palms sweating.
The smell of civilization, bread baking, laundry being washed, is overpowered by the acrid stink of burning. Though the building is stone, the roof is thatch. Flammable and judging from the rudimentary set up, many of the things inside are made of wood or cloth.
Several of the villagers have formed a makeshift bucket brigade stretching from the lake to the two-story building. However, the conflagration is already too large. Flames lick out of windows, hungry for more.
I glance around, hoping for any sign of my missing wolf. A spike of terror goes through me like an icicle jabbing into my gut. I almost double over as it spears through me. It’s not my own, but his.
Where are you? I think at Aiden.
No response. I run faster, drawn to the flames like a suicidal moth.
The villagers, male and female alike, are naked. Not so unusual in Underhill. From the front they appear completely human. But as they work to put out the fire several turn to grab buckets and I see they have tails.
Actual freaking tails.
Some are long and tufted at the ends, like a cow’s tail. Others are bushy and resemble a fox. And their spines are covered with what appears to be tree bark.
I give myself a full minute to absorb the strangeness, then focus on my hunt for my wayward wolf. The fey creatures are making little progress as the fire devours everything in its path. From the snatches of conversations that drifts to me, I can tell the tactic has been changed, the goal no longer to put out the fire but to keep it from spreading to the other buildings.
“...empty?” A willowy female with one of the brushy red tails shouts with a nervous glance to the building.
A nod of confirmation from one of the squat burly cow tailed males hauling water. “Made it...”
Where is Aiden? Another stab of fear from somewhere nearby, there and gone.
“...just the wolf.” A deeper male voice grunts.
My heart beats so hard I think it is going to leap out of my chest. I whirl toward the speaker then identifying the thin man with the fox tail, I sprint for him.
“Good riddance,” another female with an uppity nasal voice spits. It’s become clear from their remarks that no one is willing to go out of their way for Aiden.
Up close, the creatures are even more unnerving. I focus on the man with the booming voice who’d mentioned the wolf. “Where?” I wheeze, “Where did you see the wolf?”
Luminous dark eyes reflect the firelight and his tail passes the water bucket it’s holding into his beefy hand. He scans me from head to toe, noting my clothes and lack of a fifth limb, no doubt. “In the cellar of the inn. Locked it in meself.”
“You mean he’s trapped in there?” I whirl back toward the building, hunting for a door or access hatch of some kind. No wonder the wolf is panicking. “Is there a way inside from out here?”
A cow tail wraps around my wrist before I can take off and an autocratic female voice demands, “Why would you want to let it out?”
Not bothering to respond, I shake off the unsettling touch. “Is there another way inside?”
When no one answers me, I glance back at the front door, smoke billowing through the open entrance like the nostril of a dragon. Beyond, the inferno rages and somewhere in that hell is my wolf.
I don’t think, don’t hesitate for an instant, propelled forward by that same instinct that kept me walking all through the night.
I secure my backpack and sprint into the burning building.
Too Stupid to Live
I drop to the floor immediately, avoiding as much of the choking black smoke as I can. The roar of the fire is deafening and consumes the cries of the astonished townsfolk. I can’t blame them, it’s a dumb move on my part, one that might finally prove I am too stupid to live. And the Darwin Award for 2018 goes to Nic Rutherford, for not realizing that you’re supposed to run out of a place on fire.
I can see the Internet memes already. Would laugh but I don’t want to waste the oxygen.
The stone floor is cool beneath my palms. I crawl on hands and knees through the unfamiliar layout. There are no flames on this level, the smoke rolls down the stairs from the second story. I chance a glance up, eyes burning from the ash. The floor is wood. Not good. No telling how long I have until the conflagration eats its way through and collapses on my head.
The stairs also lead down to what must be the cellar where Aiden is trapped. I spare half a thought, projecting it to him that I am on my way to free him. There is no response, no sensations from the wolf or words from Aiden. Not a good sign.
The smoke grows thicker as I approach the stairs. I belly crawl across the stone floor like a snake, balancing the need for quick action with the need to keep breathing on a razor’s edge. A snap and behind me a beam from the second story crashes down. I scramble away a second before being pinned beneath the massive blackened timber.
More coughing and the tears stream steadily down my face. I scurry to the lower staircase, heart pounding at the knowledge that the only exit is now blocked. If I can get to the wolf, get through to Aiden, he can shift us to sparks. We can float out of here unscathed.
“And if ifs and buts were candy and nuts we’d all have a Merry Christmas.” I grumble a saying of Addy’s. More likely, I’ll die in a fiery inferno, either choked out by smoke or between the jaws of a feral wolf.
I half slither, half fall down the stairs into the cellar. The good news, there’s less smoke down here. The bad, no light just a bunch of dark shapes, probably unused furniture.
“Aiden.” My voice is no more than a weak rasp, throat dry and scaly. “Wolf. Where are you?”
I strain my ears, listening, willing my eyes to hurry up and adjust. There is no sound, no sign of him. Panic wells. I’ve seen his leaf green eyes glow in the dark, the light from his inner fire lighting from within. Maybe he isn’t here. Did I make a fatal mistake?
“Aiden,” I push forward, away from the stairs and the suffocating smoke. “Please. Help me find you.”
I bump into something, a stack of chairs and send them crashing to the floor. There is a yelp and then a whine to my left. He’s here and he’s still alive.
“Don’t kill me,” I mutter and weave through the furniture wreckage. “You’ll be really pissed at yourself if you kill me.”
Another soft whine helps me adjust my course and then my hand connects with cool metal. Bars. Locked in, the fey outside said. They’d locked him in this cage.
My hand is shaking. It trembles as I push it determinedly between the bars. Will he bite it off my wrist? My palm connects with thick fur. “Hey there. I’ve been looking for you.”
He nudges my hand. The big body shifts until his nose rests against my palm. He’s not a dog to lick me or demonstrate affection, but I can tell he’s glad I’m here.
Personally, I wish neither of us was here. “Are you hurt?” I cough, wondering why he’s so still.
A soft whine is my only answer, which I take for a yes. The villagers must have hurt him somehow. It’s the only way they could have caged him. And the fact that he’s no longer fighting, struggling to get free worries me more than anything else.
“Listen to me,” I choke, cough. “I need you to let Aiden out.”
The head jerks beneath my hand. His refusal.
“It’s the only way. Aiden can get you out. Can get us out.”
A green iris cracks up at me. His eyes are always so expressive, but now the light is dull.
“Don’t give up.” Under normal circumstances, I might feel foolish for stopping to have a one-sided conversation with an animal in the middle of a burning building. But the smoke is getting thicker and the roof could collapse at any time. “If you don’t give Aiden control, we’ll both die. I know you don’t want that.”
The green eye peers at me and I see something shift. Then it shuts, the big body beneath my hand heaves an enormous sigh.
And then goes still.
Through the Wolf’s Eyes
CAN YOU HELP HER? The wolf asks the foolish man creature who is once again fighting for control. No part of his body doesn’t hurt. The wounds the Huldra inflicted for him eating their livestock are not slight. She thinks you can save us.
I can. The voice is sure, steady. I can get her out. Get us all free.
Free. It is what he craves, the openness of the sky, of the forest. Away from the stink of fey, the reek of magic made flesh. Still the wolf is reluctant. The man couldn’t free him before. He hates to relinquish his grip on the body. Being trapped within the man skin, having no control, no choice of where to run, where to hunt, is his own torment.
But there is no enemy to fight, even if he had the strength. The man within can do more, can save his mate.
Our mate. The man vows. She’s my mate too, and I will protect her with my life.
It is the first time the man has acknowledged the connection. The wolf wouldn’t share a mate with another, but the man is him.
And she’s in danger. He hears her breaths—the air being ripped from her lungs as the poison smoke fills the space. She will die, they will all die if he continues to fight.
For her to survive, he must surrender.
Save her, he tells the man and then recedes into the nothingness in between.
Through the Man’s Eyes
NIC.
Aiden senses her hand on him as he regains control of his body. He doesn’t bother taking inventory of his injuries or shifting out of the wolf form. Instead, he sends two words to her. Hold tight.
She coughs then grips his furry scruff with both hands. Thank the gods.
Aiden dissolves, his body and hers turning to embers.
It’s more difficult to transport Nic without his having a hold on her and he’s careful to collect all of her and her beloved pack. Together they rise, up and up and up. Through the choking black smoke, back up the flight of stairs to the first floor. The door is engulfed in flames, but that is no barrier to him, not as he is. Nic’s grip on him feels slack, like she’s barely holding on, about to lose consciousness. He must get her out into the fresh air. Even still, he takes the time to seek a second exit, one that won’t land them in the center of the huldra village.
The chimney is to his left and after the briefest pause, he heads in that direction. Up and up and up again, through the sooty bricks, away from the confining space. His body is weak from lack of food, but his fear for Nic keeps him going.
They clear the chimney stack, clear the roof and then he surges forward and makes it to the space beneath the pine boughs, well out of sight of those in the town square, behind the burning inn.
He pieces her together first, her small body coalescing from his sparks. Then he’s beside her, naked and cold, covered with bruises and ash.
Nic coughs, expelling the soot from her lungs and offers him a weak smile. “There you are. You look terrible.”
His throat feels tight, though it’s from emotion more than smoke. “Why did you come after me?” He isn’t sure if he means when he was imprisoned, into the woods or into the burning building. All foolish choices on her part.
Clear blue eyes, the color of a winter lake peer out from her soot stained face. She holds his gaze with her characteristic frankness. “Thought you might...need me,” she wheezes an instant before her eyes roll up in her head. All the pride that usually holds her stiff drains out along with consciousness.
“I do,” Aiden tucks her dyed hair behind her ear. “I always do.”
Fatigue rides him hard, the sustained injuries and consequent imprisonment are piling up, taking their toll. He checks her pack, finds water and a few energy bars. He takes a little of each, just enough to sustain him. He needs to get her away from the village before the fire is put out and the bloodthirsty huldra realize they weren’t barbequed inside.
After repacking her bag, he lifts her over his shoulder and starts off into the woods. Sky clad, barefoot, but his course is set.
He won’t fail her again.
THE CRACKLING OF THE fire seeps into my nightmares. Burning, everything is burning, the world in flames around me. There’s no way out, no one left to help me. I shout but there is nothing.
And then the fire goes out, leaving me in the gloaming. There is no sun, no stars, but a hazy gray light illuminates the world around me. I am on the farm, but it is unlike the farm I left. No green of growing things or blue of life sustaining water. The trees are nothing but skeletal black stalks, buildings collapsing in on themselves. Rocks coated with soot. The streams dry down to their beds, littered with the bones of the animals that died there. The far distant hills are covered with ash. Not a soul left alive. No animals, mortal or immortal.
There is only the wind. It sends ash into my face, clogging my senses with remains of life extinguished.
Ragnorok. Armageddon. Judgment Day. No matter the name it is called, it all signifies the same event.
The end of the world.
I look down at my own hands, realize they are nothing but charred bones. And as I watch, the ash flakes off, pulled apart and scattered in the wind until I am no more, spread to the corners of the dead earth
while my consciousness is left to drift alone across the barren landscape for eternity.
And in the distance, I hear a man’s manic laughter.
I wake screaming and staring down at my hands, heart thundering in my rib cage, the scent of fire still in my nose. I scramble back, away from the scent, the burning that will end everything.
On the far side of the fire there is movement and then he comes around, backlit from the flames. Hands grip my shoulders holding me in place when I would have scooted back farther from the fire. “It’s okay.”
I ignore the reassuring voice and stare down at my shaking hands. Dirty and covered with ash, but the flesh is still visible underneath. Not burnt.
“Nic,” he says my name again, and grips my chin. “Look at me. You’re all right. It was just a nightmare.”
“No,” I say, and shake my head stubbornly. “I saw it. Ragnorok. I heard him laughing.”
Aiden swallows. “You mean my father.”
At my nod he curses, then pulls me into his chest. “Not yet. It’s not here yet.”
But it’s coming. He can’t pretend he doesn’t believe it. After the dream, I believe it, too. “He wants to destroy everything. Even you? Your mother?”
“We don’t matter to him, not really. Nothing does, except his vengeance. He’s destined to die, too. Be just like the selfish ass to take the rest of us with him.” He swallows and then breathes. “That’s all I’ve ever been to him, collateral damage.”
I hold him tighter, willing the shaking to stop. His heartbeat is steady, his grip on me reassuring. His hair is wet and he smells of my soap. I cling to him, glad to be in his arms and have nothing else to do at this particular moment.
It is Aiden who releases me. One second I’m in his arms and the next he’s up and across the fire. He wears nothing but the thin blanket from my pack. “Are you hungry? Or thirsty? There’s a stream nearby and I already boiled water for you.”
The Immortal Queen Page 21
